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Rilke Duino Elegies and Sonnets
Rilke Duino Elegies and Sonnets
and
Tb'e SONNeTS
TOORpbeus
AL SO BY A. POULIN,
JR..
The American Folk Scene: Dimensions of the Folksong Revival (ed. with David A. DeTurk)
In Advent: Poems
Contemporary American Poetry (ed.)
Catawba: Omens, Prayers and Chants
tJUiNO ELEljiES
and
Th'E SONNETS
TO ORphEUS
Translated by
A. Poulin, Jr.
-i-
The German text for this book is taken from Rilke's 5tlemtliche
Werke, Volume 1, copyright e1955 by Insel Verlag, Frankfurt
am Main. All rights reserved.
Elegies was originally published as"A Special APR Supplement" by The American Poetry Review. Some of The Sonnets to
Orpheus originally appeared in The American Poetry Review
and in The Ohio Revkw. Grateful acknowledgment is made
to the Editors of these journals.
Copyright 1975, 1976, 1971 by A. Poulin, Jr.
All rights reserved
PERSONAL ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I WANT TO THANK The National Endowment for the Arts and The
Research Foundation of the State University of New York for
grants I received while working on these translations, as well as
the P.E.N. American Center for assistance in time of need. I
also want to thank Kirsten Michalski, Galen Williams, Ines Delgado de Torres, and Leonard Randolph personally for kindness
that far exceeded professional courtesy.
Grateful acknowledgment is due to Mr. Kurt Bernheim, Insel
Verlag's representative in the United States, for his gracious assistance in securing the reprint and translations rights to Rilke's
poems for this book.
Irma Pylyshenko and Christoph Kaiser, my colleagues at the
State University of New York at Brockport, generously agreed to
read various parts and stages of my manuscript for the sake of
accuracy, as did Professor Jack Stein (Harvard University),
Stephen Conway (Boston University), and Paul Hopper
(Pennsylvania State University). Their expertise and sensitivity
elucidated difficult passages and afforded me insights that were
invaluable in my attempt to make these translations as faithful
to the original as I beJieved possible.
My friend Stephen Berg initially suggested that I translate the
Duino Elegies. From my first faltering attempts to the version
that appeared in The American Poetry Review, he offered me advice and encouragement with editiorial acumen and with that
fine sensibility that marks his own poems and translations. Bertrand Mathieu, Rimbaud's brilliant translator, gave me the kind
of help and encouragement that can come only from a long-time
friend, poet, scholar, and blood brother - all of which he is.
Jonathan Galassi suggested that I translate The Sonnets to Or-
vi Personal Acknowledgments
pheus in order that this book include both of Rilke's last major
sequences. His professional vigor as my editor was surpassed
only by his friendship, his sustained loyalty, and by the personal interest he devoted to these translations.
And you, Love, for wintering out a hard-turned year.
A. P.,
Jr.
PREFACE
Rilke started writing the Elegies in 1912 and worked on them intermittently
untlll914. For a number of reasons, he did not and could not return to them
again until 1922. According to several of his letters, between February 2 and 5 of
1922 he wrote the first sequence of sonnets; by February 9 he had completed 7
elegies; on February 11 he had completed 10 elegies; and by February 20, not
only had he written stll! another elegy (now the Fifth) but also the second sequence of sonnets.
viii Preface
be literal. I've taken such liberties as I felt were necessitated by
the differences between the two languages and by Rilke's
unique logic and imagery, as well as by his occasional idiosyncratic use of Gennan. At times I've taken even greater liberties
because a more literal translation didn't seem to convey the full
aesthetic sense of given passages. On such occasions I invoked
RiIke's own articulation of the poet's (and the translator's) responsibility and risk: "And he obeys, even as he oversteps the
bounds."
In his letters, Rilke spoke of the Elegies and especially of the
Sonnets as "dictations" that were "entrusted" to him. Such
words may no longer be part of the idiom of contemporary
poetry; nevertheless, the translator is entrusted with a kind of
dictation, and one of the poet-translator'S responsibilities is to
try to submerge his personal sensibility into that of the poet
whose work he is translating. But he can't annihilate his own
inner poetic sense entirely. The translation that results from
such an encounter thus becomes a fusion oflanguages, cultures,
historical moments, and aesthetic personalities; it becomes a
third poem.
No less important to this kind of alchemical process and its results is the fact that, when dealing with poems like the Elegies
and Sonnets, one can't ignore the work of others or avoid indebtedness. Like so many others of my generation, I was introduced to these poems through J. B. Leishman and Stephen
Spender's translation of the Duino Elegies and M. D. Herter Norton's versions of The Sonnets to Orpheus. Later I read C. F.
MacIntyre's translations of the Elegies and Sonnets and, more
recently, Stephen Canney and Jay Wilson's Elegies, as well as
David Young's courageous rendition of them. Such distinguished contemporary American poets as Randall Jarrell, Robert
Bly, and W. D. Snodgrass have also published translations of
Preface ix
some of the Sonnets. I've read all of them, I've learned from all
of them, and now and then I've stolen a word, a phrase, a line
from one or more of them. It's simply foolhardy to try to improve on what is obviously a mot juste. I hope someone else will
find a word or ph1C!se to steal from these versions.
When the work at hand is as monumental and awesome as
the Duma Elegies and Sonnets to Orpheus, Emerson's dictum that
each age must write its own books takes on a new meaning.
Each age, each generation needs many versions of great works
in translation in order to know them as variously and acutely as
possible, and to come to a fuller realization that there have been
a few among us, like Rilke, who haven't failed to use our
"generous spaces" and who still assert: "That's us . .. This
stood among men."
A. Poulin, Jr.
Brockport, New York
February, 1976
CONTENTS
Personal Acknowledgments
Preface
v
vii
DUINO ELEGIES
The First Elegy
13
19
27
33
43
47
55
61
69
83
Second Series
137
Notes
199
tJUiNO ELEGiES
for Basilike
dieses ist unser, uns so zu beriihren
DUINESER ELEGIEN
DUINO ELEGIES
The Property of
Princess Marie von Thurn und Taxis-Hohenlohe
[5]
[10]
[15J
[20]
Wer, wenn ich schriee, herle mich denn aus der Engel
Ordnungen? und gesetzt selbst, es nahme
einer mich plOtzlich ans Herz: ich verginge von seinem
starkeren Dasein. Denn das Schone ist nichts
als des Schrecklichen Anfang, den wir noch grade extragen,
und wir bewundem es so, weil es gelassen verschmaht,
uns zu zerstOren. Em jeder Engel ist schrecklich.
Und so verhalt ich mich denn und verschlucke den
Lockruf
dunkelen Schluchzens. Ach, wen vermOgen
wir denn zu brauchen? Engel nicht, Menschen nicht,
und die findigen Tiere merken es schon,
daB wir nicht sehr verlaSlich zu Haus sind
in der gedeuteten Welt. Es bleibt uns vielleicht
irgend ein Baum an dem Abhang, daB wir ihn taglich
wiedersahen; es bleibt uns die Stra1Se von gestem
und das verzogene Treusein einer Gewohnheit,
der es bei uns gefiel, und so blieb sie und ging nicht.
o und die Nacht, die Nacht, wenn der Wind voller
Weltraum
uns am Angesicht zehrt - , wem bliebe sie nicht, die ersehnte
sanft enttauschende, welche dem einzelnen Herzen
miihsam bevorsteht. 1st sie den Liebenden leichter?
Ach, sie verdecken sich nur mit einander fur Los.
WeiSt du's noch nicht? Wirf aus den Armen die Leere
zu den Raumen hinzu, die wir atmen; vielleicht daB die
Vogel
[5]
[10]
[15]
[201
125J
[301
[35]
[40J
[45J
[50]
[25]
[30]
[35]
[40]
[45]
[50]
[55J
[60]
[65]
[70]
[75J
[SO]
[55]
[60]
[65]
[70]
[75]
[SO]
[85]
[90]
[95]
[85]
[90]
[95]
[5]
[10]
[15]
[20]
[5]
[10]
[15]
[20]
[30]
[35]
[40]
[45]
[SO]
aufin ihrem Gesicht und geht fort. Wie Tau von dem Friihgras
hebt sich das Unsre von uns, wie die Hitze von einem
heigen Gericht. 0 Uicheln, wohin? 0 Aufschaun:
neue, warme, entgehende Welle des Herzcns - ;
weh mir: wir sinds doch. Schmeckt denn der Weltraum,
in den wir uns iosen, nach uns? Fangen die Engel
wirklich nur Ihrigcs auf, ihnen Entstromtes,
oder ist manchmal, wie aus Versehen, ein wenig
unseres Wesens dabei? Sind wir in ihre
Ziige soviel nur gemischt wie das Vage in die Gesichter
schwangerer Frauen? Sie merken es nicht in dem Wirbei
ihrer Riickkehr zu sich. (Wie sollten sie's merken.)
Liebende konnten, verstiinden sie's, in der Nachtluft
wunderlich reden. Denn es scheint, daB uns alles
verheimlicht. Siehe, die Baume sind; die Hauser,
die wir bewohnen, bestehn noch. Wir nur
ziehen aHem vorbei wie ein luftiger Austausch.
Und al1es ist einig, uns zu verschweigen, halb als
Schande vielleicht und halb als unsagliche Hoffnung.
Liebende, euch, ihr in einander Geniigten,
frag ich nach uns. Ihr greift euch. Habt ihr Beweise?
Seht, mir geschiehts, daB meine Hande einander
inne werden oder daB mein gebrauchtes
Gesicht in ihnen sich schont. Das giebt mir ein wenig
Empfindung. Doch wer wagte darum schon zu seill?
Ihr aber, die ihr im Entziicken des andcrcn
zunehmt, bis er euch iiberwaltigt
anfleht nicht mehr - ; die ihr unter den Handen
[25]
[30]
[35]
[40]
[45]
[50]
[55]
[60]
[65]
[70]
[75]
[79]
[55]
[60]
[65]
[70]
[75]
[79J
[5]
[10]
[15]
[20]
[25]
[5]
[10]
[15]
[20]
[25]
[30]
[35]
[40]
[45]
[50]
[30]
[35]
[40]
[45]
[50]
22
[55]
[60]
[65]
[70]
[75]
[55]
[60]
[65]
[70]
[75]
[80]
[85]
..
[SO]
[85]
o Baume Lebens,
[5}
[10}
[15]
[20]
[25]
0 wann winterlich?
Wir sind nicht cinig. Sind nicht wie die Zugvogel verstiindigt. Uberholt und spat,
so drangen wir uns plotzlich Winden auf
und fallen ein auf teilnahmslosen Teich.
Bliihn und verdorrn ist uns zugleich bewugt.
Und irgendwo gehn LOwen noch und wissen,
solang sie herrlich sind, von keiner Ohnmacht.
[5]
[10]
[15]
[20]
[25]
[3OJ
[35]
[40]
[45J
[50]
[55J
[30]
[35]
[40]
[45]
[SO]
[55]
[60]
[65J
[70]
[75]
[80]
[85]
[60]
[65]
[70]
[75]
[80]
[85]
[5]
[10]
[15]
[20]
[25]
Wer aber sind sie, sag mir, die Fahrenden, dicse ein wenig
Fliichtigern noch als wir selbst, die dringend von fruh an
wringt ein wem, wem zu Liebe
niemals zufriedener Wille? Sondern er wringt sie,
biegt sie, schlingt sie und schwingt sie,
wirft sie und fangt sie zuruck; wie aus geOlter,
glatterer Luft kommen sie nieder
auf dem verzehrten, von ihrem ewigen
Aufsprung dunneren Teppich, diesem verlorcnen
Teppich im Weltall.
Aufgelegt wie ein Pflaster, als hatte der VorstadtHimmel der Erde dort wehe getan.
Und kaum dort,
aufrecht, da und gezeigt des Dastehns
grDGer Anfangsbuchstab ... , schon auch, die starksten
Manner, roilt sie wieder, zum Scherz, der immer
kommendc Griff, wic August der Starke bei Tisch
einen zinnenen Teller.
Ach und um diese
Mitte, die Rose des Zuschauns:
bluht und entblattert. Um diesen
Stampfer, den Stempel, den von dem eignen
bliihenden Staub getroffnen, zur Scheinfrucht
wieder der Unlust befruchteten, ihrer
niemals bewu1lten, - gUinzend mit dunnster
[5J
[10J
[15]
[20]
[25]
[30]
[35]
[40]
[45]
[30]
[35]
o you,
a still small pain
received as a plaything once
during one of its long convalescences. . .
You, who fall a hundred times
a day, with the thud only green fruit
know, out of that tree rising from
a cooperation of motion (rushing faster than water
through autumn, spring, and summer in minutes) you fall and bounce on the grave:
sometimes, half pausing, you feel a look
of love for your seldom tender mother
surge up to your face; then it loses itself
(40]
[45]
[SO]
[55J
[60]
5ubrisio Saltat. .
[65]
[70]
[75]
Du dann, Liebliche,
du, von den reizendsten Freuden
stumm Ubersprungne. Vielleicht sind
deine Fransen gliicklich fUr dich - ,
oder iiber den jungen
prallen Briisten die grune metallene Seide
Whit sich unendlich verwohnt und entbehrt nichts.
Du,
immerfort anders auf alle des Gleichgewichts schwankende
Waagen
hingelegte Marktfrucht des Gleichmuts,
offentlich unter den Schultern.
Wo,
[SO]
[55]
[60]
[65]
[70]
[75]
[80]
[85J
[90]
[95]
Engel!: Es ware ein Platz, den wir nicht wissen, und dorten,
auf unsaglichem Teppich, zeigten die Liebenden, die's hier
his zum Konnen nie bringen, ihre kiihnen
hohen Figuren des Herzschwungs,
[80]
[85]
[90]
[95]
..
[100]
[105]
[108]
[5]
[10]
[15]
[20J
[25]
Fig tree, you've been so meaningful to me so long the way you almost completely neglect to bloom
and then, without fanfare, pour your purest
secret into the season's determined fruit.
Your arched branches drive the sap up and down
like a fountain's pipe; hardly awake, it leaps out of
sleep into the ecstasy of its sweetest accomplishment.
Sec, like the god into the swan ...
But we linger;
oh, we glory in our flowering, and so we come to
the retarded core of our last fruit already betrayed.
In a few the surge of action rises so strongly that,
when the temptation to bloom touches the youth
of their mouths, of their eyelids, like gentle night air,
they're already standing and glowing with full hearts;
only in heroes, perhaps, and in those destined to die young,
those in whom death the gardener has twisted the veins
differently. They plunge ahead of their own laughter
like the team of horses in front of the lovingly
chiseled reliefs of the conquering King at Karnak.
The hero strangely resembles those who die young.
Survival
doesn't concern him. His rising is his Being. Time and
again
he takes off and charges into the changed constellation
of his constant danger. Only a few find him there. But
hiding the rest of us in darkness, suddenly infatuated,
[5]
[10]
[15]
[20]
[25]
[30]
[35]
[40J
[45]
[30]
[35]
[40]
[45]
[5]
[10]
[151
[20]
[5]
[10]
[15]
[20]
[25]
[30]
[35J
[40]
[45]
[25]
[30]
[35]
[40]
[45]
[55]
[60]
[65J
[70]
[50]
[55]
[60]
[65]
[70]
[SO]
[85]
[90]
[93]
..
[75]
[SO]
[85]
[90]
[93]
[5J
[10J
[15J
[20J
[25]
[5]
[10]
[15]
[20]
[25]
[30]
[35]
[40]
[45]
[50]
[30]
[35]
[40]
[45]
[50]
[60]
[65]
[70]
[75]
[55]
[60]
[65]
[70]
[75]
[5]
[10J
[15]
[20]
[5]
[10]
[15]
[20]
[25J
[30J
[35]
[40]
[SO]
[25]
[30]
[35]
[40]
[45]
[50]
[55]
[60J
[65]
[70]
[55]
[60]
[65]
[70]
[75]
[SOJ
[75]
[80]
[5]
[10]
[15J
(2OJ
[5]
[10]
[15]
[20]
[25J
[30J
[35]
[40J
[45]
[25]
[30]
[35]
[40]
[45]
wendet sich, winkt ... Was so11s? Sie ist eine Klage.
[SO]
[55]
[60J
[65]
[50]
[55]
[60]
[65]
[75]
[80]
[85]
[90]
[70]
[75J
[80J
[85]
[90]
76
[95]
Doch der Tote mug fort, und schweigend bringt ihn die
altere
Klage bis an die Talschlucht,
wo es schimmert im Mondschein:
[100] die QueUe der Freude. In Ehrfurcht
nennt sie sic, sagt: - Bei den Menschen
ist sie ein tragender Strom. Stehn am Fug des Gebirgs.
Und da umarmt sie ihn, weinend.
[105] Einsam steigt er dahin, in die Berge des Ur-Leids.
Und nkht emmal sein Schritt klingt aus dem tonlosen Los.
Aber erweckten sie uns, die unendlich Toten, ein Glekhnis,
siehe, sie zeigten vielleicht auf die Katzchen der leeren
Hasel, die hangenden, oder
[110] meinten den Regen, der fallt auf dunkles Erdreich Un
Friihjahr. Und wir, die an steigendes GlUck
denken, empfanden die RUhrung,
die uns beinah besturzt,
[114] wenn ein Glucklkhes fiillt.
(95]
(100]
[105]
[110]
[114]
TbesONNETS
TOORpbEUS
for Daphne
Und wenn dich das Irdische vergass,
zu der stillen Erde sag: Ich rinne.
Zu dem raschen Wasser sprich: Ich bin.
Written as a monument
for Wera Ouckama Knoop
FIRST SERIES
o Orpheus singt!
The
It
o ihr Zartlichen,
tretet zuweilen
in den Atem, der euch nicht meint,
lasst ihn an eueren Wangen sich teilen,
hinter euch zittert er, wieder vereint.
o ihr Seligen, 0
ihr Heilen,
die ihr der Anfang der Herzen scheint.
Bogen der PfeHe und Ziele von Pfeilen,
ewiger gHinzt euer Uicheln verweint.
..
..
..
It
10
Euch, die ihr nie mein Gefiihl verliesst,
gruss ich, antikische Sarkophage,
die das frohliche Wasser romischer Tage
als ein wandelndes Lied durchfliesst.
Oder jene so offenen, wie das Aug
eines frohen erwachenden Hirten,
- innen voll Stille und Bienensaug denen entziickte Falter entschwirrten;
aile, die man dem Zweifel entreisst,
gross ich, die wiedergeOffneten Munde,
die schon wussten, was schweigen heisst.
Wissen wirs, Freunde, wissen wirs nicht?
Beides bildet die zogernde Stunde
in dem menschlichen Angesicht .
..
10
You ancient limestone tombs who never
vanished from my feelings, you
who conduct the glad old Roman water
like a wandering song, I greet you.
Or those so open like the pupils
of a happy waking shepherd
- full of silence and honeysuckle from which charmed butterflies fluttered;
all that a person wrenches from doubt
I greet, the mouths opened again
after having known what silence means.
11
It
11
..
12
12
Hail to the spirit who can link
us: because we live in symbols, really.
And with tiny steps the clocks
walk beside our primal day.
Without knowing our real place,
we act as if we actually interacted.
Antennas feel antennas,
and the empty spaces carried ...
Pure tension. 0 music of the powers!
Don't our trivial transactions
deflect all your interruptions?
Though he works and worries, the farmer
never reaches down to where the seed turns
into summer. The earth grants .
..
13
Voller Apfel, Bime und Banane,
Stachelbeere . .. Alles dieses spricht
Tod und Leben in den Mund . . . Ich ahne ...
Lest es einern Kind vorn Angesicht,
wenn es sie erschrneckt. Dies kornrnt von weit.
Wird euch langsarn narnenlos irn Munde?
Wo sonst Worte waren, fliessen Funde,
aus dern Fruchtfleisch iiberrascht befreit.
Wagt zu sagen, was ihr Apfel nennt.
Diese Siis5e, die sich erst verdichtet,
urn, im Schrnecken leise aufgerichtet,
klar zu werden, wach und transparent,
doppeldeutig, sonnig, erdig, hiesig-:
o Erfahrung, Fiihlung, Freude - , riesigl
It
13
Banana and pear, plump apple,
gooseberry . .. All these reveal
life and death inside the mouth. I feel ...
Read it in the features of a child
who's tasting them. This comes from far.
Is the unspeakable slowly growing in your mouth?
Released from the fruit's pulp, astonished,
discoveries flow where words usually were.
Dare to say what you call apple.
This sweetness that condenses first
so in the taste that's tenderly intense
it may become awake, transparent, double
meaning, clear, bright, earthy, ourso knowledge, feeling, joy - immense!
14
Wir gehen urn mit Blume, Weinblatt, Frueht.
Sie spreehen nieht die Spraehe nur des Jahres.
Aus Dunkel steigt ein buntes Offenbares
und hat vielleicht den Glanz der Eifersueht
der Toten an sieh, die die Erde starken.
Was wissen wir von ihrem Teil an dem?
Es ist seit lange ihre Art, den Lehm
mit ihrem freien Marke zu durchmarken.
Nun fragt sieh nur: tun sie es gern? ...
Drangt diese Frueht, ein Werk von schweren Sklaven,
gebaUt zu uns empor, zu ihren Herrn?
Sind sie die Herm, die bei den Wurzeln schlafen,
und gonnen uns aus ihren Oberflussen
dies Zwischending aus stummer Kraft und Kiissen?
14
We're involved with flower, fruit, grapevine.
They speak more than the language of the year.
Out of the darkness a blaze of colors appears,
and one perhaps that has the jealous shine
of the dead, those who strengthen the earth.
What do we know of the part they assume?
It's long been their habit to marrow the loam
with their own free marrow through and through.
Now the one question: Is it done gladly?
The work of sullen slaves, does this fruit
thrust up, clenched, toward us, its masters?
Sleeping with roots, granting us only
out of their surplus this hybrid made of mute
strength and kisses - are they the masters?
..
15
Wartet ... , das schmeckt ... Schon ists auf der Flucht
... Wenig Musik nur, ein Stampfen, ein Summen - :
Madchen, ihr warmen, Madchen, ihr stummen,
tanzt den Geschmack der erfahrenen Frucht!
Tanzt die Orange. Wer kann sie vergessen,
wie sie, ertrinkend in sieh, sieh wehrt
wider ihr SiiBsein. Ihr habt sie besessen.
Sie hat sich kOstlich zu euch bekehrt.
Tanzt die Orange. Die warmere Landschaft,
werft sie aus euch, dass die reife erstrahle
in Liiften der Heimat! Ergliihte, enthiillt
Diifte urn Diifte! Schafft die Verwandtschaft
mit dec reinen, sieh weigernden Schale,
mit dem Saft, der die gliickliche fii1lt!
..
15
Wait ... that tastes good ... it's already bolting .
. . . Just a little music, a tapping, a hum Girls, you girls who are silent and warm,
dance the taste of the fruit you've been tasting.
Dance the orange. Who can forget it,
how, drowning in itself, it refuses
its own sweetness. You've possessed it.
Exquisite, it's been transmuted into you.
Dance the orange. Discharge the warmer
landscape out of you so the ripe will glisten
in their native breezes! Glowing, strip
perfume from perfume. Become sisters
with the pure, resistant rind,
the juice that fills the happy fruit!
It
16
Du, mein Freund, bist einsam, weil . . .
Wir machen mit Worten und Fingerzeigen
uns allmahlich die Welt zu eigen,
vielleicht ihren schwachsten, gefahrlichsten Teil.
Wer zeigt mit Fingern auf einen Geruch?Doch von den Kraften, die uns bedrohten,
filhlst du viele ... Du kennst die Toten,
und du erschrickst vor dem Zauberspruch.
Sieh, nun heisst es zusammen ertragen
Stiickwerk und Teile, als sei es das Ganze.
Dir helfen, wird schwer sein. Vor aHem: pflanze
mich nicht in dein Herz. lch wiichse zu schnell.
Doch meines Herm Hand will ich filhren und sagen
Hier. Das ist Esau in seinem Fell .
..
16
You, my friend, are lonely because ...
With pointing words and fingers
we slowly make the world our
own, perhaps its weakest, most precarious
part. Who points a finger at a smell?
But you feel many of the powers
that threaten us .. , You know the dead,
and you cower from the magic spell.
See, now we must bear the pieces and parts
together, as if they were the whole.
Helping you win be hard. Above all,
don't plant me in your heart. I'd grow too fast.
But I shall guide my master's hand and say:
Here. This is Esau in his pelt.
..
17
Zu unterst der AIte, verworrn,
all der Erbauten
Wurzel, verborgener Born,
den sie nie schauten.
Sturmhelm und Jagerhorn,
Spruch von Ergrauten,
Manner im Bruderzorn,
Frauen wie Lauten ...
Drangender Zweig an Zweig,
nirgends ein freier . . .
Einer! 0 steig . . . 0 steig . . .
Aber sie brechen noch.
Dieser erst oben doch
biegt sich zur Leier.
It
17
Deep down, the oldest
tangled root of ail that's grown,
the secret source
they've never seen.
Helmet and horn of hunters,
old men's truths,
wrath of brothers,
women like lutes ...
Branch pushing branch,
not one of them free ...
One! oh, climb higher . . . higher . . .
Yet they still break.
But this top one finally
bends into a lyre.
118
18
..
18
Do you hear the New, Master,
droning and throbbing?
Its prophesying promoters
are advancing.
No hearing's truly keen
in all this noise;
still, now each machine
part wills its praise.
See, the Machine:
how it spins and wreaks
revenge, deforms and demeans us.
Since its power comes from us,
let it do its work
and serve, serene .
19
Wandelt sich rasch auch die Welt
wie Wolkengestalten,
alles Vollendete fallt
heim zum Uralten.
Uber dem Wandel und Gang,
weiter und freier,
wahrt noch dein Vor-Gesang,
Gott mit der Leier.
Nicht sind die Leiden erkannt,
nicht ist die Liebe gelemt,
und was im Tod uns entfernt,
ist nicht entschleiert.
Einzig das Lied iiberm Land
heiligt und feiert.
It
19
Even if the world changes as fast
as the shapes of clouds,
all perfected things at last
fall back to the very old.
Over what's passing and changing,
freer and wider,
your overture is lasting,
god with the lyre.
Pain's beyond our grasp,
love hasn't been learned,
and whatever eliminates
us in death is still secret.
Only the Song above the land
blesses and celebrates.
20
Dir aber, Herr, 0 was weih ich dir, sag,
der das Ohr den Geschopfen gelehrt? Mein Erinnern an einen Friihlingstag,
seinen Abend, in Russland - , ein Pferd ...
Heriiber vom Dod kam der Schimmel allein,
an der vorderen Fessel den Pflock,
um die Nacht auf den Wiesen allein zu sein;
wie schlug seiner Ml!hne Gelock
an den Hals im Takte des Obermuts,
bei dem grob gehemmten Galopp.
Wie sprangen die Quellen des Rosseblutsl
Der fiihlte die Weiten, und ob!
der sang und der horte - , dein Sagenkreis
war in ihm geschlossen .
. Sein Bild: ich weih's.
20
21
Fruhling ist wiedergekommen. Die Erde
ist wie ein Kind, das Gedichte weiss;
viele, 0 viele. .. Fur die Beschwerde
langen Lemens bekommt sie den Preis.
Streng war ihr Lehrer. Wir mochten das Weisse
an dem Barte des alten Manns.
Nun, wie das Griine, das Blaue heisse,
durfen wir !ragen: sie kanns, sie kanns!
Erde, die !rei hat, du gluckliche, spiele
nun mit den Kindem. Wir wollen dich langen,
frOhliche Erde. Oem Frohsten gelingts.
0, was der Lehrer sie lehrte, das Viele,
und was gedruckt steht in Wurzeln und langen
schwierigen Stammen: sie singts, sie singts!
21
..
22
22
..
23
o erst dann,
23
Oh only then, when flight
will no longer rise
into the sky's silences
for its own sake, self-sufficient,
so that in shining profiles,
like a successful tool,
it may play the wind's darling,
slim, confidently swaying only when a pure destination
means more than adolescent
pride in swelling machines,
will one, hellbent to win,
closing on the distances
be his lonely flight's own end.
24
..
24
If
25
wie eine Blume, von der ich den Namen nicht weiss,
noch ein Mal erinnern und ihnen zeigen, Entwandte,
schOne Gespielin des unuberwindlichen Schreis.
Tanzerin erst, die plotzlich, den Korper voll Zogern,
anhielt, als gOss man ihr Jungsein in Erz;
trauernd und lauschend-. Da, von den hohen Vermogern
fie! ihr Musik in das veranderte Herz.
Nah war die Krankheit. Schon von den Schatten bemachtigt,
drangte verdunkelt das Blut, doch, wie fluchtig verdachtigt,
trieb es in seinen natiirHchen Friihling hervor.
Wieder und wieder, von Dunkel und Sturz unterbrochen,
gllinzte es irdisch. Bis es nach schrecklichem Pochen
trat in das trestles offene Tor.
25
But you, now, you - I knew you like a flower
whose name I don't know. Once more I'll remember
and describe you to them, you who evaporated,
the unquellable cry's beautiful playmate.
Dancer first, whose body, full of hesitation, paused
suddenly, as if her youth were being cast in bronze;
mourning and listening. Then, from the great
creators music fell into her transformed heart.
Sickness was near. Already mastered by darkening,
her blood pulsed darker, but as if suspicious for
a moment, it leapt out into its natural spring.
Again and again, clotted by dark and collapse,
it gleamed earth. Until after terrible throbs
it trod through that hopelessly open door.
133
26
o du verlorener Gatt!
Du unendliche Spur!
Nur weil dich reissend zuletzt die Feindschaft verteilte,
sind wir die Horenden jetzt und ein Mund der Natur.
26
But you, divine one, you resounding to the end.
When attacked by the swarm of rejected maenads,
gorgeous god, you drowned out their shrieks with order,
the architecture of your song rose from the destroyers.
Not one of them could crush your head or lyre,
despite their wrestling and raging;
and touching you, all the sharp rocks they fired
at your heart turned tender, gifted with hearing.
Ravaged by vengeance, at last they broke and tore you.
But the echo of your music lingered
in rocks and lions, trees and birds. You still sing there.
Oh you lost god! You everlasting clue!
Because hate finally dismembered, scattered
you, now we're merely nature's mouth and ears.
SECOND SERIES
..
..
2
Just as at times the nearest sheet of paper
quickly catches the master's genuine
stroke, so mirrors often capture
the unique sacred smile of girls in them,
when they appraise the morning all
alone - or in the glow of helpful tapers.
And later only a reflection falls
into that breath of their real features.
Into the slow-waning glow of coals
in charred fireplaces, what have eyes stared
at once: glimpses of a life forever lost.
Ah the earth, who knows her losses?
Only one who, still praising them out loud,
would sing the he.art bom into the whole .
..
..
..
It
It
..
..
6
Enthroned rose, to them in ancient times
you were a calyx with a simple ring.
For us you are the full, the countless bloom,
the inexhaustible thing.
In your wealth you shimmer like drape
over drape on a body of nothing but splendor;
yet your single petal is both the escape
from and the denial of any attire.
For centuries your perfume has been calling
its sweetest names across to us;
suddenly, it lies on the air like fame.
Still, we don't know what to can it, we're guessing ...
And over to it memory carries
what we have begged from hours filled with names .
It
..
and none
..
10
Alles Erworbnc bedroht die Maschine, solange
sie sich erdreistct, im Geist, statt im Gehorchen, zu sein.
Dass nicht der herrlichen Hand schoneres Zogern mehr prange,
zu dem entschlossenern Bau schneidet sie steifer den Stein.
Nirgends bleibt sie zuriick, dass wir ihr ein Mal entronnen
und sie in stiller Fabrik olend sich seIber gehort.
Sie ist das Leben, - sie meint es am besten zu konnen,
die mit dem gleichen Entschluss ordnet und schafft und zerstort.
Aber noch ist uns das Dasein verzaubert; an hundert
Stellen ist es noch Ursprung. Ein Spielen von reinen
Kraften, die keiner beriihrt, der nicht kniet und bewundert.
Worte gehen noch zart am Unsaglichen aus ...
Und die Musik, immer neu, aus den bebendsten Steinen,
baut im unbrauchbaren Raum ihr vergottlichtes Haus .
..
10
11
..
11
12
Wolle die Wandlung. 0 sei fiir die Flamme begeistert,
drin sich ein Ding dir entzieht, das mit Verwandlungen prunkt;
jener entwerfende Geist, welcher das Irdische meistert,
liebtin dem Schwung der Figur nichts wie den wendenden Punkt.
Was sich ins Bleiben verschliesst, schon ists das Erstarrte;
wahnt es sich sicher im Schutz des unscheinbaren Grau's?
Warte, ein Hartestes warnt aus der Ferne das Harte.
Wehe - : abwesender Hammer holt ausl
Wer sich als Quelle ergiesst, den erkennt die Erkennung;
und sie fuhrt ihn entziickt durch das he iter Geschaffne,
das mit Anfang oft schliesst und mit Ende beginnt.
Jeder gliickliche Raum ist Kind oder Enkel von Trennung,
den sie staunend durchgehn. Vnd die verwandelte Daphne
will, seit sie lorbeern fiihIt, dass du dich wandelst in Wind.
12
13
Sei aHem Abschied voran, als ware er hinter
dir, wie der Winter, der eben geht.
Denn unter Wintern ist einer so endlos Winter,
dass, iiberwinternd, dein Herz iiberhaupt iibersteht.
Sei immer tot in Eurydike - , singender steige,
preisender steige zuriick in den reinen Bezug.
Hier, unter Schwindenden, sei, im Reiche der Neige,
sei ein klingendes Glas, das sich im Klang schon zerschlug.
Sei - und wisse zugleich des Nicht-Seins Bedingung,
den unendlichen Grund deiner innigen Schwingung,
dass du sie vollig vollziehst dieses einzige Mal.
Zu dem gebrauchten sowohl, wie zum dump fen und stummen
Vorrat der vollen Natur, den unsaglichen Summen,
zahle dich jubelnd hinzu und vernichte die Zahl.
13
Be ahead of aU Departure, as if it were
behind you like the winter that's just passed.
For among winters there's one so endlessly winter
that, wintering out, your heart will really last.
Be dead forever in Eurydice - rise again, singing
more, praising more, rise into the pure harmony.
Be here among the vanishing in the realm of entropy,
be a ringing glass that shatters as it rings.
Be - and at the same time know the implication
of non-being, the endless ground of your inner vibration,
so you can fulfill it fully just this once.
To nature's whole supply of speechless, dumb,
and also used up things, the unspeakable sums,
rejoicing, add yourself and nullify the count.
14
Siehe die Blumen, diesc dem Irdischen treuen,
denen wir Schicksal vom Rande des Schicksals leihn, aber wer weiss es! Wenn sie ihr Welken bereuen,
ist es an uns, ihre Reue zu sein.
Alles will schweben. Da gehn wir umher wie Beschwerer,
legen auf alles uns sclbst, vom Gewichte entzuckt;
o was sind wir den Dingen fur zehrende Lehrer,
weil ihnen ewige Kindheit gluckt.
Nahme sie einer ins innige Schlafen und schliefe
tief mit den Dingen - : 0 wie kame er leicht,
anders zum anderen Tag, aus der gemeinsamen Tiefe.
Oder er bliebe vielleicht; und sie bliihten und priesen
ihn, den Bekehrten, der nun den Ihrigen glekht,
allen den stillen Geschwistern im Winde der Wiesen.
It
14
Look at the flowers, true to earth's ways,
we lend them fate from the rim of fate but who knowsl If they deplore their decay,
it's up to us to be their regret.
All wants to float. But we trudge around like weights.
Ecstatic with gravity, we lay ourselves on everything.
Oh what tiresome teachers we are for things,
while they prosper in their ever childlike state.
If one took them into intimate sleep and slept
deeply with things - oh how light he'd come
back, changed with change of day, out of a mutual depth.
15
..
15
Oh fountain-mouth, you mouth, you giver,
who speaks the inexhaustible, the Pure, the One you, marble mask in front of the water's
flowing face. And in the background
the origin of aqueducts. From far away,
past graves, from the slopes of the Apenines,
they bring you what you say,
what then, beyond your black and aging chin,
finally falls into the basin
before it. This is the ear laid down asleep,
the marble ear in which you always speak.
An ear of earth. She's only talking
with herself alone. Slip a pitcher in,
it seems to her you're interrupting.
16
Immer wieder von uns aufgerissen,
ist der Gott die Stene, we1che heilt.
Wir sind Scharfe, denn wir wonen wissen,
aber er ist heiter und verteilt.
Selbst die reine, die geweihte Spende
nimmt er anders nicht in seine Welt,
als indem er sich dem freien Ende
unbewegt entgegenstellt.
Nur der Tote trinkt
aus der hier von uns geharten QueI1e,
wenn der Gott ihm schweigend winkt, dem Toten.
Uns wird nur das Llirmen angeboten.
Und das Lamm erbittet seine Schelle
aus dem shlleren Instinkt.
..
16
Torn open by us over and over again,
the god is the place that heals.
We're sharp because we will
know; but he's scattered and serene.
Even the pure, the sacred offering
he accepts no other way into his world:
motionless, he stands confronting
it, the unconditional goal.
Out of the well
heard by us here, only the dead drinks
when the god signals silently to him, the dead.
To us only noise is offered.
And out of a more quiet instinct,
the lamb begs for its bell.
,.
17
Wo, in we1chen immer selig bewasserten Garten, an we1chen
Baumen, aus we1chen zartlich entblatterten Bliiten-Ke1chen
reifen die fremdartigen Friichte der Trostung? Diese
kostlichen, deren du eine vielleicht in der zertretenen Wiese
deiner Armut findest. Von einem zum anderen Male
wunderst du dieh iiber die Grosse der Frucht,
liber ihr Heilsein, liber die Sanftheit der Schale,
und dass sie der Leiehtsinn des Vogels dir nieht vorwegnahm
und nicht die Eifersucht
unten des Wurms. Gibt es denn Baume, von Engeln beflogen,
und von verborgenen langsamen Gartnern so seltsam gezogen,
dass sie uns tragen, ohne uns zu gehoren?
Haben wir niemals vermocht, wir Schatten und Schemen,
durch unser voreilig reifes und wieder welkes Benehmen
jener gelassenen Sommer Gleiehmut zu stOren?
It
17
Where, in what heavenly watered gardens, in what trees,
from what lovingly unsheathed flower-calyxes
do the strange fruits of consolation ripen? Those precious
fruits, one of which you find perhaps in the trampled field
of your poverty? Time after time you marvel
at the size of the fruit, its soundness,
over its tender peel, and that a thoughtless
bird or jealous worm below didn't steal
it before. Are there trees flocked by angels, then,
and so strangely bred by slow, clandestine garden
hands that they produce us without being ours?
Shadows and shades, because we ripen too soon
and wither again, have we never had the power
to disorder the composure of these serene summers?
..
18
Tanzerin: 0 du Verlegung
alles Vergehcns in Gang: wie brachtest du's dar.
Vnd der Wirbel am Schluss, dieser Saum aus Bewegung,
nahm er nicht ganz in Besitz das erschwungene Jahr?
Bliihte nicht, dass ihn dein Schwingen von vorhin umschwarme
platzlich sein Wipfel von Stille? Vnd tiber ihr,
war sie nicht Sonne, war sie nicht Sommer, die Warme,
diese unzahlige Warme aus dir?
Aber er trug auch, er trug, dein Baum der Ekstase.
Sind sie nicht seine ruhigen Frtichte: der Krug,
reifend gestreift, und die gereiftere Vase?
Vnd in den Bildern: ist nicht die Zeichnung geblieben,
die deiner Braue dunk1er Zug
rasch an die Wandung der eigenen Wendung geschrieben?
..
18
Dancing girl: oh you translation
of an vanishing into act: how you made it clear.
And that final flourish, that tree of motion,
didn't it wholly possess the hard-turned year?
Didn't it oloom so your swirl a moment ago might
swarm around it, suddenly a summit of stillness? Also,
wasn't it summer above, "asn't it sunlight,
the warmth, that immeasurable warmth out of you?
But also it bore, it bore, your tree of rapture.
Aren't these its tranquil fruits: the jug
streaked ripe, and the vase even riper?
And in the images: didn't the drawing
endure, that dark stroke your eyebrow
quickly scrawled on the wall of its own turning?
It
19
Irgendwo wohnt das Gold in der verwohnenden Bank,
und mit Tausenden tut es vertraulich. Doch jcner
BUnde, der Bettler, ist selbst dem kupfernen Zehner
wic ein verlorener Ort, wic das staubige Eck untcrm Schrank.
In den Geschaften entlang ist das Geld wie zu Hause
und verkleidet sich schcinbar in Seide, Nelken und Pelz.
Er, der Schweigende, steht in der Atempause
aHes des wach oder schlafend atmenden Gelds.
o wie mag sie sich schliessen bei Nacht, diese immer offene Hand.
Morgen holt sie das Schicksal wieder, und taglich
halt es sie hin: hen, elend, unendlich zerstorbar.
Dass doch einer, ein Schauender, cndlich ihren langen Bestand
staunend begriffe und riihmte. Nur dem Aufsingenden saglich.
Nur dem Gottlichen horbar.
19
20
Zwischen den Sternen, wie weit; und doch, urn wievieles noch
weiter,
was man am Hiesigen lernt.
Einer, zum Beispiel, ein Kind ... und ein Nachster, einZweiter-,
o wie unfasslich entfernt.
Schicksal, es misst uns vielleicht mit des Seienden Spanne,
dass es uns fremd erscheint;
denk, wieviel Spannen allein yom Madchen zum Manne,
wenn es ihn meidet und meint.
Alles ist weit - , und nirgends schliesst sich der Kreis.
Sieh in der Schiissel, auf heiter bereitetem Tische,
seltsam der Fische Gesicht.
Fische sind stumm ... , meinte man einmal. Wer weiss?
Aber ist nicht am Ende ein Ort, wo man das, was der Fische
Sprache ware, ohne sie spricht?
It
20
How far between the stars; and yet, how much farther
still what we learn from the present.
Someone, a child for example ... and another, a neighbor oh how inconceivably distant.
Perhaps fate measures us with the span
of being, so that to us it seems strange;
think, how many spans just from a man
to a woman, when she avoids him and longs . . .
All is far - and nowhere does the circle close.
See, on the table nicely set, in the dish,
how odd the faces of the fish.
Fish are dumb . . . one used to think. Who knows?
But isn't there a place at last where perhaps their speech
is spoken - without fish?
..
21
Singe die Garten, mein Herz, die du nicht kennst; wie in Glas
eingegossene Garten, klar, unerreichbar.
Wasser und Rosen von Ispahan oder Schiras,
singe sie selig, preise sie, keinem vergleichbar.
Zeige, mein Herz, dass du sie niemals entbehrst.
Dass sic dich meinen, ihre reifenden Feigen.
Dass du mit ihren, zwischen den bliihenden Zweigen
wie zum Gesicht gesteigerten Liiften verkehrst.
Meide den Irrtum, dass es Entbehrungen gebe
fUr den geschehnen Entschluss, diesen: zu sein!
Seidener Faden, karnst du hinein ins Gewebe.
Welchem der Bilder du auch im lnnern geeint bist
(sei es selbst ein Moment aus dern Leben der Pein),
fiihl, dass der ganze, der riihmliche Teppich gemeint ist.
21
My heart, sing the gardens you haven't known,
like clear inaccessible gardens poured in glass.
Ecstatic, sing the incomparable roses
and fountains of Ispahan or Shiraz, praise them.
My heart, prove that you can do without them.
That it's you their ripening figs have in mind.
That your friendship with their breezes between
branches all in bloom rises to the pitch of vision.
Avoid the error of believing that you're being
deprived for that decision you once made: to be!
Silken thread, you became part of the weaving.
Whatever pattern you're part of most intrinsically
(even just for a moment in the life of pain),
feel that the whole is meant, the glorious tapestry.
It
22
22
Oh in spite of fate: the glorious surplus
of our existence foaming over in the parksor like stone men braced under bakonies
crowding the cornerstones of high arches I
Oh the brassy ben lifting its bludgeon
daily against the dally dull.
Or the one, in Karnak, the column, the column
that outlives the almost eternal temples.
Today abundances, the same ones, race
by, but only as a rush from the horizontal
yenow day into the more magnified dazzling night.
But the frenzy passes and leaves no trace.
Arcs of flight across the air, and those who controlled
them: maybe none is meaningless. But only as thought.
It
23
Rufe mich zu jener deiner Stunden,
die dir unaufhorlich widersteht:
flehend nah wie das Gesicht von Hunden,
aber immer wieder weggedreht,
wenn du meinst, sie endlich zu erfassen.
So Entzognes ist am meisten dein.
Wir sind frei. Wir wurden dort entlassen,
wo wir meinten, erst begriisst zu sein.
Bang verlangen wir nach einem Halte,
wir zu Jungen manchmal fUr das Alte
und zu alt fiir das, was niemals war.
Wir, gerecht nur, wo wir dennoch preisen,
well wir, ach, der Ast sind und das Eisen
und das Siisse reifender Gefahr.
It
23
Can me to that one of your hours
which is incessantly resisting
you: close as a dog's begging
face, but turned away as ever,
Of
24
24
25
Schon, horch, horst du der ersten Harken
Arbeit; wieder den menschlichen Takt
in der verhaltenen Stille der starken
Vorfruhlingserde. Unabgeschmackt
scheint dir das Kommende. Jenes so oft
dir schon Gekommene scheint dir zu kommen
wieder wie Neues. bruner erhofft,
nahmst du es niemals. Es hat dich genommen.
Selbst die Blatter durchwinterter Eichen
scheinen im Abend ein kunftiges Braun.
Manchmal geben sich Lufte ein Zeichen.
Schwarz sind die Striiucher. Doch Haufen von Dunger
lagern als satteres Schwarz in den Au'n.
Jede Stunde, die hingeht, wird junger.
25
26
Wie ergreift uns der Vogelschrei ...
Irgendein einmal erschaffenes Schreien.
Aber die Kinder schon, spielend im Freien,
schreien an wirklichen Schreien vorbei.
Schreien den Zufall. In Zwischenraume
dieses, des Weltraums, (in welchen der heile
Vogelschrei eingeht, wie Menschen in Traume-)
treiben sie ihre, des Kreischens, Keile.
Wehe, wo sind wir? Immer noch freier,
wie die losgerissenen Drachen
jagen wir halbhoch, mit Riindern von Lachen,
windig zerfetzten. - Ordne die Schreier,
singender Gott! dass sie rauschend erwachen,
tragend als Stromung das Haupt und die Leier .
..
The
26
How a bird's cry can move us ...
Any once-created crying.
But even children playing
in the open cry beyond real cries. . . . ,
Cry accident. They drive their screams'
wedges into those interstices
of cosmic space (in which bird-cries
go unharmed, as men go into dreams).
Oh where are we? Freer and freer,
like kites torn loose, tattered by wind,
we race in midair, edged with laughter.
Singing god, order the criers,
so they awake resounding like a current
carrying the head and the lyre.
It
27
27
..
28
It
28
Oh come and go. You, still barely a child,
for an eye-wink perfect the symbol of dance
into a sheer constellation of dance,
one of them in which we momentarily excel
Nature's primitive ordering. For she reached
fun hearing only when Orpheus sang.
You were the one from the past still excited
and slightly surprised when a tree took so long
deciding whether it would go into your ear.
You still knew that place where the resounding
lyre arose - that unheard-of center.
So you tried out your lovely steps, hoping
to tum your friend's look and direction
someday toward that restoring celebration.
29
Stiller Freund der vielen Fernen, fiihle,
wie dein Atem noch den Raum vermehrt.
1m Gebalk der finstern Glockenstiihle
lass dich lauten. Das, was an dir 7..ehrt,
wird ein Starkes tiber dieser Nahrung.
Geh in der Verwandlung aus und ein.
Was ist deine leidendste Erfahrung?
1st dir Trinken bitter, werde Wein.
Sei in dieser Nacht aus Ubermass
Zauberkraft am Kreuzweg deiner Sinne,
ihrer seltsamen Begegnung Sinn.
Und wenn dich das Irdische vergass,
zu der stillen Erde sag: Ich rinne.
Zu dem raschen Wasser sprich: Ich bin.
29
NOTES
..
NOTES
..
THE DUINO ELEGIES
Dedication
Princess Marie von Thurn und Taxis-Hohenlohe was a friend of Rilke
who offered him the use of her cast~ at Duino near Trieste where he
comp~ted the first and second elegies and wrote fragments that later
became the third, sixth, ninth, and tenth elegies.
The FIrSt Elegy
200 Notes
for me, Adria sighs for me, poverty calls for me. He died on the 16th
of October, 1593."
1.91: LinGs
An ancient Greek deity whose legend assumed a variety of forms
linking him with Adonis, Apollo, and Orpheus and who was associated with nature-worship and the origin of music. According to
one account, when Linus died the void caused by his death was so
startled that its trembling amazement was called musk. In another
account the lament or dirge for Linus is related to music's origin because those who were numbed by his death were reawakened by the
song of Orpheus.
The Second Eh!gy
l. 3: Tobias
A biblical figure who was sent by his dying father to retrieve a substantial amount of money that had been left in another man's care.
Tobias didn't know the way, and when he went looking for someone
to guide him, he met Raphael whom he didn't recognize as one of the
archangels because Raphael appeared to him disguised as a handsome young man.
Dedication
In 1915 Rilke spent several months in the home of Frau Hertha von
Koenig who, at the time, was the owner of Picasso's painting Les SaJtimbal1ques, which influenced this Elegy.
Notes201
Leishman astutely observes that in Picasso's painting it is rather
difficult to determine whether the acrobats are "arriving or departing, beginning or ending their performance." Moreover, in one of
his notebooks from 1907, Rilke wrote at length about a troupe of real
acrobats that he'd seen in the Luxembourg Gardens in Paris and
spent considerable time describing how the acrobats kept starting
and stopping. At this moment in the Elegy it also seems that the acrobats are standing in some kind of momentary pause between one
act and another. These are some of the considerations that contributed to the manner in which I attempted to resolve this linguistic
challenge.
1. 18: Augllstus the Strong
King of Poland and Elector of Saxony from 1697 to 1733. According
to a mixture of history and legend, he was known to be a powerful
athlete who was matched in physical strength only by Peter of Russia.
I. 63: "Subrisio SaUat"
An abbreviation of "subrisio saltatoris," i.e., "acrobat's smile."
I. 20: Karnak
The site of the splendid temple to the god Amon Re on the Nile in
Southern Egypt that Rilke visited in January of 1911. The temple is
especially noted for the Hypostle Hall erected by Seti I and his son
Ramses II during the 19th Dynasty. The Hall includes 134 huge pillars on which are carved various scenes depicting the kings and the
god.
Most translators have rendered this line as "the chiseled reliefs of
Karnak the conquering king." However, there is no historical evidence that there ever was a king by this name, a fact that Rilke undoubtedly knew since he had visited Karnak.
The Eighth Elegy
Dedication
Rudolf Kassner was an Austrian philosopher and writer to whom
Rilke was introduced by Princess Marie von Thurn und TaxisHohenlohe and with whom Rilke spent some time at Duino. De-
202 Notes
spite their friendship, Rilke profoundly disagreed with Kassner's belief that the limitations and contradictions lamented in this Elegy are
necessary conditions of life; and Kassner viewed Rilke's longing for
"the open" as atavistic.
I. 58: Etruscan souls
The Etruscans painted birds on the walls of their tombs to represent
the souls of the dead. They also often placed a life-size figure of the
dead person on top of the sarcophagus.
Dedication
Born in Moscow in 1900, Wera Ow::kama Knoop was a young girl
especially talented in music and dancing. Although Rilke had seen
her daru:e only once, her untimely death at the age of twenty moved
Notes 203
him deeply and served as the emotional occasion for the writing of
these sonnets. In a letter to Countess Sizzo, Rilke described Vera as
"that beautiful child, who had just begun to dance and attracted the
attention of everyone who saw her in those days through the art of
motion and transformation innate in her body and spirit."
First Series
;; 6, ll. 3-4:
In The Golden Bough, Frazer notes that Orpheus carried a willow
branch as a talisman when he went down to Hades to rescue
Eurydice. Moreover, in the frescoes on the walls of the loggia at Delphi, Orpheus was portrayed as sitting under a willow, holding his
lyre with one hand and a branch of the willow with the other.
I. 10:
Rue and earthsmoke (the herb, fumitory) were plants used to make
medicine. C. F. MacIntyre also states that these are "typical
graveyard flora."
I. 14:
The clasp, ring, and gourd (or jug) were everyday objects buried with
the dead by some andent peoples.
'*' In10:the first stanza Rilkc is clearly speaking of the andent sarcophagi
in Rome, while in the second stanza, according to a note he wrote in
a friend's copy of the Sonnets, he is referring to the open sarcophagi
among the Roman ruins at Les Alyscamps near Aries in Southeastern
France.
;; 11:
See note on lines 91-93 of "The Tenth Elegy" for a discussion of the
constellation "Rider."
;; 13 and 14:
C. F. Macintyre has suggested rather convincingly that these two
sonnets are indebted to Valery's poem, "Le Cimetiere marin."
;; 16:
In a letter to his wife, Rilke stated that perhaps the reader should
know that this poem is addressed to a dog.
204 Notes
The last line is somewhat enigmatic, for it suggests that Rilke has
either dramatically telescoped or confused the biblical account of
Esau and his twin-brother Jacob. In Genesis it is Ja{:ob whose skin is
smooth and hairless and who attaches the pelts of goats to his arms
and neck in order to deceive his aged father, Isaac, into believing that
he Oacob) is Esau and thereby rob his brother of his rightful inheritance.
As it appears in the poem, the line could be spoken by Jacob at that
moment when he is impersonating his brother, or Esau could be
speaking metaphorically. However, in a letter to Countess Sizzo
Oune, 1923) Rilke's own explanation of the line makes it all the more
enigmatic. He told the Countess that the dog in the poem is like
Esau who has "put on his pelt in order to share in ... a heritage of
everything human that was not coming to him."
Second Series
#3, l. 7:
A "sixteen-pointer" is a stag with sixteen points to its antlers. Generally an eight- or ten-point stag is considered very large.
#4:
This sonnet is based on The Lady with the Unicorn tapestries at the
Musee de Cluny in Paris.
#5:
Though Rilke ascribes certain morphological characteristics of animals to this flower, it should not be confused with the sea anemone.
In her memoir of RiTke, Lou Andreas-Salome quotes him as once
writing: "I am like the little anemone I once saw in the garden in
Rome, which had opened so far during the day that it could no
longer close at night!"
#8:
Egon von Rilke was Rilke's cousin and one of his childhood playmates. He died when he was still a child. Most probably he is "the
boy with the squinting brown eyes" in line 35 of "The Fourth Elegy."
# 11:
The caverns of Karst (or Carso) are at Trieste, near Duino, which
Notes205
Rilke visited. Rilke's description of the manner in which doves were
hunted is based on fact.
# 21, 1.4:
Ispahan and Shiraz were cities in ancient Persia, now Iran. Ispahan
is also a kind of Persian rug.
# 22, 1.7:
..